


illicit affairs

by alemonadetoast



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, No Dialogue, Stream Folklore, dot gives Phryne advice, i really don't know where this is set, illicit affairs, just ignore the fact that its messy pls, kinda modern au???, my first attempt lmao, no actual dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25717111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alemonadetoast/pseuds/alemonadetoast
Summary: This is basically a oneshot inspired by "illicit affairs" by Taylor Swift. :)
Relationships: Phryne Fisher & Jack Robinson, Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson
Comments: 18
Kudos: 57





	illicit affairs

She is always careful when she leaves his place. Her head down, the hood of her jacket over her head to help hide her identity. And for the most part, she gets away with it. No one really notices the woman leaving Jack Robinson’s bungalow in a hushed manner anyway. 

She has only been caught once coming home in the early hours of the morning, and it was by Valentine Smith, a middle aged woman who lives down the street from Phryne. The people living in her street like to know everything about one another. They’re mostly Melbourne’s high society after all. So when Phryne noticed the woman she immediately clenched her jaw, preparing herself for the slew of questions inevitably coming her way and praying that she would have answers. 

When Valentine asked where she just came home from, Phryne had lied and told her she went for an early morning run. After all, it was not such a far fletched thing to believe. Her cheeks and skin are always flushed when she leaves Jack, her skin clammy from being wrapped up in his arms the entire time, her hair messy. Valentine had praised her for having the mercy and motivation to go for a run so early in the morning, and Phryne had forced out a smile before ducking into her house and into the shower to wash any scent of Jack’s skin off of her body.

It started out innocent enough, just two friends casually catching up and working with one another, enjoying night caps after having solved cases together. It was never meant to be anything more, but then there was that one day, where she was so utterly fed up with her other ’lovers’, that she found herself inviting Jack to a hotel room at the Windsor without second thought. She told herself it was just so they could talk more comfortable, catch up in peace and quiet. But she abandoned that lie quickly, once her lips brushed his for the first time. It felt like fireworks exploding inside her. It was a feeling she hadn’t ever felt with anyone else.

It became a regular thing, meeting in the suite every Thursday afternoon on his lunch break. But when they became more desperate for one another, barely able to go a few days, let alone a week without seeing other besides work, they opted for abandoned or empty parking lots where they slip into the backseat and just get lost in one another for a while.

They are not exactly proud of it. They both know it is wrong. He is a divorced man, she is an aristocrat somewhere even known for having various lovers. But Jack makes her feel alive. Makes her feel like every bone in her body is made of silly putty. The way he touches her, and kisses her, lights a fire within her body that she never knew existed. Perhaps it’s the thrill, or maybe even the fact that he doesn’t want her to change. All she knows is that with him, she has no pressure of trying to be the perfect, picturesque lady detective she’s known to be. Avoiding any thing that could lead to a scandal. She can simply be herself, a wild spirit, who was still trying to figure things out.

She has to catch herself from slipping sometimes, from putting too much effort into him, into their affair. She can’t leave any trace behind, just goes to him to relieve tension ans gain pure pleasure. That’s all it is. Just sex.

But then there’s that reminder in her bathroom, a perfume she bought because she thought he’d like it. Oh and he had. After yet another passion filled meeting on his day off, when she slipped out of the hotel room as if she’d never been there, he slept peacefully in the wrinkled sheets, because they smelled of her perfume, smelled like her skin, and he wanted to drown in it.

It was so much easier in the beginning, when they could pretend that they were just seeking out pleasure from a familiar face. It’s what both of them have dreamed of for a long time. So what if communication took a backseat to passion?

But eventually, that wore off, and they had to admit to themselves that this thing between them had become more than either intended. It was not just about mind numbing sensations and searing kisses anymore, now it was an addiction. Something they’d risk everything for. Status, respectability, it all went out the window because nothing felt as good and as right as being with one another did. 

He got used to her saying it was the last time. She said it every time. But she always called again, asking him to meet her somewhere. People would call him pathetic if they knew that, if they knew that he came running back to her like a lost little puppy every time. But he’s been around long enough, witnessed enough of other people’s relationships, to know not to let go. So what if she was not ready to dive in fully with him. She’d always been afraid of commitment, that’s what she had said, that she could never commit herself to any man. He knows she’d never live a conventional life. He can’t ask that of her, even if it kills him to watch her walk out the door every time.

She never usually has too big of a problem when she leaves him. Sure it’s a little disappointing, she loves spending time with him, but once she leaves him, she slips right back into high society. But lately it feels like she’s suffocating. Every time she turns onto her street she feels like screaming, feels like abandoning everything and running back to him, curling herself in his arms and asking him to hold her for the rest of her life.

She’s a mess and Dot seems to somewhat agree with that statement when she sits her down with tears in her eyes and tells her everything. But she has also seen the way Phryne and the Inspector act around each other. She’s sure there is something called love, even if Phryne has her difficulties when it comes to committing herself. So, Dot gives her her best advice which Phryne is quick to follow and thankful for and they pack a bag with the most important of her things. The others will remain here, in her house. She won’t ever sell it. But for a moment she leaves it all behind.

News will break soon, people will be whispering about her, the aristocrat, and him, the detective Inspector. She just can’t bring herself to care, which makes the look on Jack’s face even more priceless when he opens his front door and sees her, and then sees the bag in her hand. 

“Hi,” She whispers, cheeks blushing like a schoolgirl. 

She does not need to explain, he knows her, as if they have some secret language only the two of them speak. He does not even say a word, just smiles that beautifully crooked smile of his that she loves so much, and steps aside. He knows it’s probably going to be hell for the next few weeks, possibly months with everyone talking and the commissioner practically breathing down his neck, and she knows it too. But they also know that with each other, it’s worth it. They’d give up everything for each other, because this right here, is perfection.

**Author's Note:**

> This has literally been my first attempt at a no dialogue oneshot, so this is definitely not perfect at all, haha. Also, I haven't had anyone proofread this, so I apologise for any sort of grammar / spelling mistakes! 
> 
> -Vicky <3


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